[Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Thu Nov 30, 2017 5:01 pm

Quest Information:

"...and then without any warning, she just kicked him in the balls! Gahahahahaha!"

"Chaaaahohohoho!" The fat man slapped the overburdened table repeatedly, his hand clutching at his chest in an atrocious attempt at self-control. He convulsed in his guffaw as if he were having a seizure, causing some of the less festive guests of the establishment to shake their heads and frown in embarrassment.

This was Mock Town, the port city of Jaya, one of the more lawless civilized islands of Grand Line. This humor-filled ruckus was pouring into the streets from within the walls of one of the most popular taverns of Mock Town; "The Singing Skeleton", it was named, for who knows what reason. The owner of the business, the fat man slamming away at his own property, was short and grey-haired. His nose was curved—akin to a parrot's beak—and his features were withered. Yet, the man seemed full of energy and enthusiasm, as evident from his laughing fit.

The man sharing in this hilarity was uncomfortably tall and broad for the size of the dining hall, seated on the floor for there was no chair big enough for his gigantism. With a charcoal cloak draped over his shoulders—topped with warm and fuzzy tan fur—and no fabric on his torso besides the bandages wrapped around his upper waist, one could almost mistake him for an eccentric homeless man if it were not for his unusually advanced robotic arm. A trimming of his scruffy beard was long overdue, and his shaggy red-brown hair aided this image by no small amount. The man also wore unnotable baggy pants and a pair of brown sandals which lent him very little inclusivity in the class of "respectable gentleman".

His robotic arm winced and squeaked silently within the snorting and howling, barely announcing its existence. The laughter of the two loons stood out within the confines of the building, but they were not the only ones entertained—joined by the chuckles of men sitting around them, their center table surrounded by near half-a-dozen folk listening in.

"Whatcha end up doing wit’ her?" The fat man asked curiously. The man-in-black replied with a cocked brow, "What do you mean what did we do with her? We laughed about it and gave her a pat on the back for having more balls than the nitwit she kicked." The response only amplified the noise. "Chaaaahohohoho! Chaaahohoho! Stop--Stop it!" Some of the disapproving guests continued to pout and murmur grumpily, clearly irritated by the man's lack of a volume dial. But the discontent was entirely overlooked by the audience of the man-in-black.

The light through the windows was donning an evening hue. And the wind was now restless, the day making its way to an overcast night. The streets without the walls of the Singing Skeleton were not at all lacking in populace. The setting sun meant nothing to the shady, transient residents of Mock Town; many of which were present at this establishment tolerating the unwelcome entertainment of the half-giant and the owner, with no balls to challenge the nuisance.

Word Count: 501
Tags: @Baltroy

TRACKERS:

Mon Dec 04, 2017 2:01 am

Don't cause a scene~!

A new fool was in town and it had the lowest of low merchants bustling excitedly. Mock Town might not have been best known for its abundance in merchants and in fact, many preferred to steer well away from dealing business with pirates and it took some guts or lack of brains to do so, but it didn’t stop the fire alighting in the wannabes at the prospect of an easy scam. The fool might have also been an easy target for pickpocketing, but fortunately for him, he had his opponents confused in that aspect.

Sure, he was dressed well enough with a lavish suit, a polished silver brooch glistening on his collar and golden chains holding his expensive-looking mantle to his shoulder. But what was perhaps so bizarre about him was the hand-drawn wagon behind him, piled so high with an assortment of rubbish that looked ready to topple any minute now.

The thieves might have thought twice about robbing this one now, but the sneaky merchants with more refined speeches were ready to try their hand. Who knew what exactly it was that encouraged them: the boyish face despite clearly being well past his teens, the innocent amber eyes that shone at every little interest that passed him or the giant grin plastered across his face even as he skipped over a pile of human dung on the very street he walked.

Whatever it was, all could definitely agree it had to be the way he openly gushed and raved over the strangest of trinkets through the grimy windows of the even grimier shops. A shadow from a cloud lapsed over the town, but it did little to put a dim on the sunshine that was Alice B. Ronx. He couldn’t really help being anything but the centre of attention in a town of crooks, so it really couldn’t be the fault of the crooks if they decided to take his every penny, right?

“Hey, kid!” hollered a weasel-like pirate with a cigarette hanging loosely off his lip. He was crouching over a measly array of blackened coins, cracked plates and even a dirty shoe, ready to be the first in the long line of criminals already plotting their own scheme. “I have just the thing you might be interested in.”

The “kid” was immediately caught. There was no need for hook, line or sinker.

“Show me!” he demanded excitedly and even the pirate was taken aback by surprise to see the mad dash Ronx had made to appear before his “stall” in a flash. He had moved so fast that even the mountain on his wagon had failed to move even an inch. It was almost as though he had teleported.

“Uh, right,” coughed the pirate, before reaching into his bag of graceful words. “Feel free to browse my wares as you see fit, but if I could bring your attention to these beauties here.”

“Oh!” Ronx’s eyes lit up at the handful of crusty coins, blackened with rust. “They are beautiful! I’ll take them all!” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a red drawstring bag. “Here! They look so wonderful I’ll give you everything I have!”

The pirate’s eyes widened with shock and he grabbed the bag, swiftly exchanging them for the dirty coins. Caressing the heaviness of the pouch, he cackled crassly. “Pleasure doing business with you, kid!”

“Same to you!” said Ronx cheerfully, taking his leave with a hearty wave. “Such a good find today!” He carefully arranged the coins into an empty pouch retrieved from the wagon before placing it carefully on top of the growing pile. “Mock Town is such a nice place~”

He had just made it down the street and was ready to turn the corner when he heard an infuriated, “HEY!!”

cait at btn

Fri Dec 08, 2017 10:35 am

A violent coughing fit was sure to come for the fat innkeeper with these unrestrained humorous tales. And so it did. Huffing and puffing and wheezing, the owner gasped for air. ”Pardon the intrusion”, said the cyborg, only a moment before the unhealthy outburst ceased abruptly. The onlookers, previous audience and miscellaneous alike, stared at the scene with concern and now confusion.

The bulky man stood up, dusting himself off before letting slip a playful “oops”. ”Thanks for that, Gray-san.” The others remained in puzzlement, unsure of what exactly the black-cloaked man was being thanked for. ”You should take better care of yourself, Horace. Don’t be in a hurry to leave Olivia and Ethan all by themselves. Gahahaha.” The cyborg offered him an undersized glass of water, the proprietor accepting it gratefully and downing it in a single gulp before clearing his throat.

The giant’s admirers began to disperse when the conversation shifted away, the two or three servers quickly engaging them to lighten their pockets some more. ”Speaking of the kid, he should’ve been back by now. That little squirt knows sunset is curfew time.”

The cyborg finally raised himself off the floor, his thick orange-brown hair nearly brushing against the low ceiling. ”Why don’t you and Olivia get started on dinner while I go look for him? He seemed excited over the new treasure peddlers in town gathering near the square. I’ll start there.” The host was interrupted by a murmur before he could even respond. ”I know what you’re going to say; quit worrying. I’ve gone four years without having made myself known beyond helping. I’ll keep away from prying eyes.”

“The Conqueror”, “Black Fist” - Gray Starks had journeyed all the seven seas countless times over. As if I’d let myself be caught after all this time. But, the world never had any obligation to bend to his determination. And it’s not as if his continued existence was entirely a secret, especially to a certain intelligence organization known for its behind-the-scenes monopoly of world-shaking information.

Having none of the owner’s protests, Gray exited the building, freeing the evening clientele from his raucous shenanigans. The streets of Mock Town were a litter-fest. There was no mayoral association nor an alliance of regulars who dained to look after the municipal needs of the city. After all, such measures would only introduce the one thing that folk came here to avoid—taxes.

Mock Town was a paradise for divers and scavengers. The many gravesites of ships falling from the skies in an attempt to reach the legendary Sky Islands via the Knock-Up stream made the waters around Jaya a treasure trove for such enthusiasts. And the competition over said artifacts was well known to be fierce and lethal. And, true to its reputation, there were many hawkers claiming to sell artifacts from the Sky Islands when he neared the market. So obviously fake, it’s laughable. And yet, there were always fools who believed the scamming spinsters when they weaved wondrous tales for their star-eyed victims. One such one-eyed swindler was shouting of a new hoard of authentic relics for sale, matching the spirit of an adrift sailor at the sight of land.

Though Gray may have been skeptical of the legitimacy of these happy announcements, it was likely that a curious child like Ethan might be tempted out of his poise if he’d heard the same words. And in hopes of finding this lamb, the shepherd-to-be followed the slowly shuffling crowd of shifty shoppers towards this exhibition of ancient ornaments, calming his senses to probe for the boy.

[Kenbunshoku Passive Toggled]

Word Count: 588
Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: Feel free to introduce Ethan (the kid Gray’s looking for) as an NPC if you like. I don’t really have a personality planned for him (except for the fact that he likes antiques too). Maybe Alice could save him from ruffians, even if only accidentally?

TRACKERS:

Sun Dec 17, 2017 1:33 am

Don't cause a scene~!

Ronx rounded a corner, panting heavily. His wagon had seen better days and the mountain of so-called “treasure” was tilted at a precarious angle. However, by some miracle unknown to man, everything still managed to remain intact and he seemingly hadn’t lost a single item throughout the wild chase. He stopped for the moment, his ears perked for the angry pirate still hounding him. When no sound resembling that of a buffalo could be heard, he shuffled past his wagon and poked his head audaciously out the corner, in a show of what he probably thought was a very covert action. Fortunately for him, the scammed scammer was nowhere in sight and Ronx let out a pent up sigh of relief. Until...

“Hey.”

“EEK!! Don’t hurt me!” squealed Ronx, leaping into the air in fright and clinging to his mountain of trash, half protective of it and half hoping it would protect him.

He glanced down to see a boy peering petulantly up at him. He was a scruffy kid; short, thin, perhaps older than he looked and his skin was splotched with dirt, made to seem darker than it really was. However, he had brilliant blue, doe-like eyes, a little too wide for his small face, and his wave of brown curls fell over his forehead as though to do what little it could to conceal them.

“Are you even a man?” he scoffed rudely. “Men shouldn’t scream like that.”

Ronx cautiously slid down from his wagon and bent down, squatting to get on the same eye level of the child. “Men shouldn’t make fun of other men’s screams,” he retorted with a more childish air than the child he spoke to.

The kid glared at him and an small, unexpected fist collided with Ronx’s head. Taken by surprise, it took the older man several moments to realise the child had assaulted him.

“What was that for?!” he demanded, clutching his head and falling onto his rump with tears in his brimming in his eyes.

“Men don’t cry!!” snapped the boy. So harsh were his words that Ronx found himself immediately complying, squeezing his lips together to seal away the next wail and doing his best to prevent his tears of pain escaping his eyes. The boy then grabbed his senior roughly by the collar. “It pisses me off that you got those coins I wanted from that guy before me! How can a guy like you get treasure when I can’t?!”

“Coins?” repeated Ronx, thinking for a moment before a lightbulb clicked. “Oh, do you mean these?”

He quickly reached behind him with careful fingers to the pouch containing the blackened coins and tipped the contents onto his gloved palm. The boy’s eyes immediately widened and shone with admiration. He studied the coins with such deep adoration that it was enough to even move Ronx’s heart, something that usually became very possessive and selfish when it came to antiques. Honest antique lovers were so hard to come by nowadays, especially in children, and despite the child’s lack of hygiene and proper manners, Ronx couldn’t help seeing in him his own childhood.

“I’ll sell you one for 50 berry,” suggested Ronx and the boy’s eyes lifted up to meet his.

“Really?” he asked in awe, his jaw dropping. The boy immediately began patting his clothes before pulling out a single 100 berry coin from his pocket. “I’ll take two!” he announced proudly, beaming up at the blonde-haired merchant.

Grinning, Ronx exchanged his blackened coins for the boy’s grim-covered berry.

“You’re not such a bad guy, after all,” said the boy begrudgingly after the deal was done. He stared lovingly at the two coins for a moment before suddenly glancing up at the sky. Seeing the sun sinking lower and lower, he began to panic. “Oh no, it’s past my curfew. Pa is gonna kill me!”

The revolutionary glanced worriedly at him, but it was quickly masked and he smiled gently down at him. “How about I walk you home?” he suggested. “I can explain to your parents why you’re late.”

The boy’s panic melted away at his reassuring words and he exchanged a smile of relief with the revolutionary. “That would be great. Yeah, you’re not so bad. My name’s Ethan, by the way.”

“I’m Ronx,” replied the young revolutionary, feeling pride spread through him despite the approval he received was coming from a boy half his age.

“You still have a long way from becoming a man, though!” exclaimed Ethan with a chitter.

cait at btn

Tue Dec 26, 2017 11:20 am

Scanning through a mass of hooligans and feisty mongrels for a single, relatively innocent child was a challenge even for a man who had spent decades mastering the colour of observation. What a masterpiece they painted on this canvas of auras—the usurers, the trappers, the robbers and pirates, and the scammers and burglars. And yet, within this bottomless pit of rogues and charlatans, Gray felt more at home than just about anywhere else.

He had always enjoyed solid anonymity in Mock Town due to its transient populace and lawless nature. And with many of the guests dipping their mandibles here only for the sake of coin or booze, none seemed to care much for a stranger’s identity unless said stranger had crossed them. (Granted, all it took to cross someone here was an accidental boot on their foot.)

He sauntered through the market, uninterested in the dubitable merchandise, weaving through one army of star-eyed customers to another. He smiled kindly and apologized to any who gave him the odd glare for interrupting their viewing of invaluable relics, successfully preventing them from reviling him for his size—something he had no dominion over.

After a slow and lazy stroll trailing the deliverer of the previous enthusiastic announcement, he reached its author. The tall and sickly thin man wore an imperial purple frock coat with golden accents. Underneath, he wore a neat white shirt, with full sleeves and frilled cuffs. On his head was a dark tricorne hat trimmed with gold also, a plume of a feather sticking out from one of its vertices. Under the hat, his hair was brown and black, frayed and wavy, and his jaws were narrow, his chin and nose curving almost comically. But, the feature he might be most recognized by was undoubtedly his facial hair. His moustache was shaped like a bolt of lightning, erratic and sharp; but the ends themselves did not end in a point. Instead, they curled into a whirlpool of hair, almost entirely cloaking his pale red cheeks.

The moustachioed man called himself “Baron le Tourbillon”, and promised the early crowd an auction of items they’d never seen before. Gray thought it all an exaggeration, for such were the promises of all auctioneers. But, this man seemed more sure of himself than any other in town. And the cherry on the cake was his powerful aura. This was no ordinary small fry.

“You! Monsieur! With the rust-bucket for an arm-monnaie!” There’s not a speck of rust on it. The pilgrim was diligent in maintaining and oiling his arm, but the metal itself was incapable of oxidizing—or so its maker had claimed. Nonetheless, Gray did not argue and gave the snide call a moment of his attention. ”Oui toi! Stick around, mon ami, I have just the upgrade you’ve been looking for-monnaie!” The cyborg half-smiled, noticing the fanatic gaze of some mecha-lo-maniacs around him who’d surely be looking forward to bidding on such an item. He simply nodded and shrugged, knowing auctioneers had a habit of singling out folk to fuel the zeal of the remainder of the audience.

Once the baron had moved on to pick on some other holder of an item of interest, Gray unobtrusively reversed himself out of the crowd. With many of the streets emptying into this square, the shepherd had detected his stray lamb. With an invisibly quick leap, he climbed up the tiled roof of a nearby barbershop—one he might’ve patronized if it weren’t for the growling stomach and lingering concern for the young one.

After crossing two buildings, with light steps aided by his ability so as not to collapse the roof under his weight, he loomed over the boy and another. A golden-haired young man dressed in an all too elegant attire was in Ethan’s company. He might’ve thought him to be a scammer, had he not seemed familiar somehow. Then again, he had known many-a-swindler too, so that could very well still be a possibility.

Seeing the outfits of the baron and now this princely figure, it seemed like a day for fanciful clothes, and he felt utterly out of place, despite the expensive quality of his mantle and mechanized arm.

He observed the pair for a while, taking note of their debatably friendly interaction. He couldn’t escape this nagging familiarity he felt towards the prince, failing to pinpoint its origin. And his unquestionably strong aura was even more recognizable than his figure. With his curiosity and his mission intersecting so conveniently, he dropped down onto the street like a cat, overbearing the two from the rear. His friendly smile might have been almost intimidating with his eyes veiled by the shade and his voice grounded by an uncomfortable gravity.

”Won’t you introduce me too, Ethan?”

Word Count: 792
Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: -

TRACKERS:

Mon Jan 01, 2018 3:33 am

Don't cause a scene~!

It soon became apparent Ronx wasn’t exactly the most suitable escort, especially when there were dubious merchants—the blonde revolutionary being among them—hawking left and right, attempting to sell whatever dubious goods they had in their dubious hands. It didn’t help that the escortee’s attention was also easily bought and his eyes was constantly lit up at every turn of his head. It might have only been by sheer luck the two had managed to keep from seperating, largely because both followed the same manner of instinct and shared the same taste in antiques: all of them. One pirate would hoot he bore riches excavated from an ancient ruin, two heads would turn; another with heavy dreadlocks covering his entire face like a mop claimed...he didn’t even have to finish his sentence and two boys of the same mental age came dashing to his carpet.

“Stop getting in my way, Ronx,” snapped Ethan, the first to lose his patience. “It’s not like a man.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” contested Ronx haughtily, turning his nose skyward. “I was clearly here first!”

“Noww, now, boyzz, theere’s eenough for evvveryone,” said dreadlocks lazily, his body tilting back and forth like a pendulum. “Whaat’s you boyzz faancy?”

“I’ll give you, uh...these for that necklace!” responded Ethan quickly, forcing himself in front of the revolutionary and holding up his fist.

“Lesseee lesseee,” chuckled dreadlocks, taking what he offered. He uncurled his hands and peered through his curtain of hair at the blackened coins. “Lesseeee…” he mumbled. His rocking stopped abruptly. “What’s this, are you mocking me?!!” he roared, pelting the coins back. “Scram, you nobodies!!”

Ronx screamed and bolted without a second thought—having been in such circumstances more than enough times to know that it was better to run first and wonder later. He grabbed Ethan by the collar, but the scamp was already taking off with his black coins in his hands, sprinting like a gazelle. They rounded a corner and with dreadlocks out of sight, they almost sighed with relief, but when they turned, they came face-to-face with a weasel-like pirate. The pirate’s eyes widened with surprise. Goodness, he looks awfully familiar, thought Ronx, before screaming again. Ethan glanced up at the pirate and echoed the scream.

And again they flew. “Get back here with my coins, you fake noble!” bellowed the pirate, taking chase immediately.

“Wait, he’s not my problem!” realised Ethan with a gasp, mid-flight. “Alright, Ronx, it’s been great knowing you. You can deal with this, you’re a man aren’t you?”

“Hold on, you traitor!” shrieked Ronx. “Don’t leave me!”

“Ronx...I forgot to mention this, but I have an disease,” said Ethan grimly, still continuing to run beside him. “It’s called I-can’t-run-from-angry-people-who-aren’t-my-problem-or-I’ll-die disease.”

“That’s an awfully long name,” chirped Ronx, momentarily forgetting why he was even running, just that he was.

“The longer the name, the more ter-ter-” he hesitated.

“Terminal?” offered Ronx.

“Yes! Terminal!” brightened Ethan. “Wait, what’s terminal?”

“I don’t know.”

“Stop right there, you punks!!”

“I remember now, I have terminal I-can’t-run-from-angry-people-who-aren’t-my-problem-or-I’ll-die disease!!” screamed Ethan. “Wait, did he say punks with a plural?”

“Maybe he knows you’re with me,” suggested Ronx.

“Dammit, this is all your fault!!” screamed Ethan angrily. “You still have a long way to becoming a man!”

Several moments later, the two stood panting heavily behind a barber store, bracing themselves against Ronx’s cart. Outside in the din, three men still searched avidly for the runaways, two of which Ethan had crossed earlier when he had spewed insults and words he didn’t quite understand fully himself at a pair of merchants who had refused to sell a rusty old bell for 100 berries.

“I think we’ll be safe for the time being,” gasped Ethan between breaths, while Ronx fretfully checked the contents of his cart to ensure nothing had been lost during the scramble.

Suddenly a hulking shape landed behind them and Ronx felt an overbearing aura radiating from figure, pressing down so heavily, the revolutionary felt his breath catch in his throat. He shrieked. Ethan screamed and leapt into Ronx’s arms.

“Please spare the boy, he’s just a boy,” sobbed Ronx, half clinging onto Ethan.

“Since he insists, please spare me,” agreed Ethan, weeping openly.

“You traitor!”

“You’re a man! Oh, hey isn’t that Gray?”

“Gray!” gasped Ronx with relief, releasing Ethan and opened his arms almost as though to embrace the giant man. “Oh you know him, thank goodness. I have never been more glad to see you, Gray.”

“You know him?” asked Ethan, glancing up at him in surprise.

Ronx paused, sweeping his amber eyes over the man’s profile, his eyes stopping at his robotic arm, barely suppressing an interested gleam. There was something very familiar about that arm, he thought and for some startling reason, he found himself recalling an old companion whom he had last seen in Alabaster.

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly and spun around, digging into the mountain of antiques on his cart for a moment. He burrowed until only his legs were visible and Ethan eyed the top of the mountain nervously. Finally Ronx emerged again, his golden hair even messier than it had been earlier and in his hand, he held a mask painted in indigo and shaped like the face of a raven. He donned it and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “No, I don’t know him,” he said, failing to recall anything and dropped his arm, but made no move to remove the mask. “Oh, but isn’t this a lovely mask?”

“Yes, it is,” sighed Ethan with adoring admiration. “How much is it?”

“It’s not for sale!” snapped Ronx defensively.

The boy pouted with disappointment before turning back to the behemoth of a man. “This is Ronx,” he explained. “He’s a little weird, but it doesn’t take long to get used to it.”

“Hey! But nice to meet you, Gray.”

STATS TRACKER:

0 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED:

DAMAGE TRACKER:

TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:

NPC TRACKER 0:

cait at btn

Sat Aug 17, 2019 5:26 pm

Gray always had a soft spot for children and gentle buffoons. And here were one of each, entertaining him by making fools of themselves.

"Gahahahaha! It's alright Ethan-kun, it's just me."

His mouth twisted into a half-smile when the blond young man referred to him familiarly. He watched with curiosity, genuinely enthusiastic to see what the lad was retrieving from the endless pit of goods that accompanied him.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered if this well-dressed merchant-looking fellow was playing a fool and intended to scam Ethan one way or another. His haki and that nagging sense of recognition argued against that notion.

Even before the treasure-hunter came back with the item he'd been searching for, Gray foresaw what it was. He immediately recognised it and recalled why the blond youngster seemed familiar. The fight against CP0 at Alabasta... He was there! He had assisted in the defence of that quiet village.

What took Gray by surprise was that the aloof man did not recognise him despite connecting him to the raven mask. Rare was a man who would forget Gray completely after even just a single meeting.

This walking contradiction to the sorts of men Gray had known was hilarity given form. Gray laughed once more, offering his robotic hand to shake - knowing that the lad would be eager to shake it based on how keenly he had been gawking at it.

"Gehahahaha! It's a pleasure to meet you again, Ronx-kun. As you already seem to know, I'm Gray, Gray Starks. I never got to thank you properly for helping out at that village in Alabasta."

He then squatted down to be on the same level as the Ethan before continuing to speak.

"What are the two of you doing here? It's getting late. Your old man was getting worried about you, Ethan-kun."

"It's not my fault! Ronx here distracted me with all these cool coins." He pulled out a handful of rusted coins, their authenticity warranting an inspection. The boy then went on to provide an incoherent explanation, getting bogged down by descriptive but unnecessary details in every chapter of his recounting of the evening.

Gray scratched his chin, his meaty thumb feeling the prickly ends of his beard. "It sounds like you two had gotten yourselves in a bit of trouble. All the more reason we should head home before trouble finds us again." As suited as Jaya might have been to preserve his anonymity these days, there were always some elite pirates passing through Mock Town who could identify him if a conflict were escalated.

Upon the threat of his father's ornery disciplining, Ethan quickly prepared himself to return home. "Okay! Ronx, you come with us too. My mama cooks for our tavern. It's key-lime pie night. I'll share mine with you if you haven't got money." An odd offer to make to a man who was dressed like a wealthy, pampered prince.

The boy turned to Gray with starry-eyes. "Oh, oh! Can I ride on your shoulder again? Ronx! His fur scarf is so comfy! Did you get it from an antique shop, Gray? It looks so cool!"

Gray snickered and shook his head, letting Ethan clamber up onto his right shoulder. His shoulders were near wide enough to seat two kids on each side. He then regaled the two youngsters with the story of how he came to have the fur scarf.

"The Grand Line is filled with wondrous creatures and fearsome beasts. Your friend Ronx here might just be one of them." He glanced at the blond merchant with a cheeky smirk. "This is doubly true when you cross the Red Line and enter the New World."

Gray had leapt up onto a rooftop again and walked with graceful steps, mysteriously not collapsing any roof tiles under his weight. This mystery would not be a brain-buster if one knew of his devil fruit abilities.

"On a faraway island in the New World, there was a man who could turn into a mammoth. I once fought that man. He was a mighty opponent, but your friend Gray is no pushover either. In that fight, I ripped this piece of fur off of him."

He left out the more troublesome details of this souvenir - how it had been ripped off with a good bit of flesh and blood and had required a decent amount of cleaning and treatment to be used as a piece of clothing.

His young friend gasped and yelped excitedly. "Did you beat the mammoth?!" Gray nodded confidently - almost arrogantly - as if to say "of course".

In a few short minutes, they had arrived at The Singing Skeleton. Gray's expression had soured before they reached their destination, for he had foreseen an unhappy mob surrounding the tavern.

"We know it was your son, Horace! It's about time you paid for his shenanigans!"

Those angry words stood out among the others, the sentiment of all of them matching.

"It looks like those hooligans you pissed off have brought their grudges to your door. What will you do about it, Ronx-kun, Ethan-kun?" A good lesson in taking responsibility for their actions was perhaps due for the young miscreants.

Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: -

TRACKERS:

Tue Aug 20, 2019 9:22 am

Don't cause a scene~!

Ronx tilted his head up to meet the towering giant’s eyes, but the mask hindered such an action and he lifted it up to his forehead, still unready to remove it altogether. When Gray reached his cybergenic arm down, offering it as a means of greeting, Ronx’s amber eyes immediately lit up with a hunger so uncharacteristic to his usual countenance.

He grasped his hand with both of his own and shook it vigorously, abandoning any attempt to conceal his obvious desire for the arm itself. “Oh, this is wonderful!” he exclaimed.

He motioned to glide his hands in an almost invasive manner over the sparkling metal, but as abruptly as he had taken the other man’s hand, he released it quickly, having satiated his appetite for the beautiful craftsmanship of the artifact. It was almost a pity the arm was attached, but it was precisely for this reason Ronx restrained himself to simply admire it. But…

“If you ever find yourself discarding your arm, please contact me and I’ll be more than happy to find it a new home~” he said cheerfully, his amber eyes glowing as he forced himself to tear them away from the masterpiece. “I’ll even give you a reasonable price!”

“Hey, Ronx, don’t go getting ahead of yourself!” snapped Ethan, tugging on his mantle. “I already called shots on it before you were even born!”

Ronx glanced down at the boy with unmasked surprise. “Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry!” He paused before eyeing the child dubiously. “Surely...that’s not possible…?”

Gray’s bellowing laugh interrupted before they could continue their next skit and at the mention of Alabaster, Ronx’s thoughts went first to his old friend and comrade, activating an unfortunate habit of his to completely disregard everything else his conversationalists said. “Oh, Eva, you’ve sure changed since we last met…” said the faux-noble with a deliberating tilt to his head, before he realised there was simply no way the connection was possible.

Oh wait! There was that gentleman with the shifty rat-like eyes too! No, that wasn’t it either...Ahhh! The revolutionary’s eyes suddenly widened at the recollection of that behemoth haki, the imposing and intimidating aura that commanded the attention and compliance of all those around him.

“Oh, you’re that Gray Starks guy!” he exclaimed, his mouth loose and his eyes wide with shock. And then, contrary to expectations, he fell into a fit of laughter. “Oh no, I just...haha...I just remembered!” Breathing labouriously, he braced himself against his cart while Ethan’s bewildered stare bore into his frame. “When Eva told Yedi we’d run into The Conqueror--!” Again, he fell victim to choking laughter and couldn’t continue until he’d regained his breath. “He chased me around HQ for hours until Price finally came to save me! He was livid! I never did figure out why he was so mad, but it sure was fun!”

He finally contained his hilarity to muffled giggles and he raised his teary eyes to first meet Ethan’s baffled expression to Gray’s. He was clearly the type to laugh at his own jokes with complete disregard to those around him. Ethan abruptly turned to the towering man. “I swear I had no idea he was this weird. Obviously, I knew, but not to this extent.”

“Hey, that was a funny story!” retorted Ronx, feeling slightly miffed at the poor reception from his audience.

However, the time for his cheery storytelling would have to be put to a halt, as Ethan reenacted their recent adventures of mayhem and jocularity. Gray seemed to listen intently to the child’s words, clearly concerned at his mishaps and his penchant for falling victim to scam artists.

Ronx shook his head with disapproval, the image of a distressed Gray roaming the town in search of the boy developing in his mind. One really shouldn’t cause worry to one’s guardian, Ronx thought boldly. The thought of his own crew, who’s ship he had abandoned without a word, never once crossed his mind.

His thoughts were scattered at Ethan’s invitation to eat at his family’s tavern and his eyes brightened, the illusion of a tail wagging furiously appearing behind him. “Oh, I do enjoy pie!” he said excitedly, the mask bouncing against his forehead. Then he watched Ethan clamber onto Gray’s right arm and his eyes fell greedily to his cyborg arm once more. “Don’t mind if I do~~” he sang, gliding up the legendary conqueror’s arm with the ease of the practiced acrobat he was. “Ah, but…” he glanced down at his cart.

“Don’t worry, Gray should be able to pull it along,” commented Ethan, following his gaze.

“How?” asked Ronx incredulously, his eyes reflecting his doubt. He was clearly unwilling to leave his precious "treasures" behind.

Suddenly, the old conqueror launched himself upwards and landed with the agile elegance so contrary to his rough-and-tumble appearances. Gasping with wonder, Ronx clutched the man’s shoulder, completely forgetting about his concerns, and a childish laughter burst from his lips.

“You can see the whole town from here!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, his eyes scouring the rooftops.

He could see so much! There was the ongoing auction, the street of pirate merchants, and the docks weren’t so far from Mock Town either. And yet they appeared so far away from the centre of the town with its scattered towers and winding streets. The crescent moon was still just under the orange horizon, but as Gray took yet another giant leap, Ronx watched with starry-eyed wonder as the sun was swallowed by the sea.

He broke into a gleeful whoop, swinging his arms up as though to feel the wind rush through his whole body. If he had felt even the slightest concern for his estranged crew, it was all so faded now, it was like recalling a dream. Yes, something was there but Ronx wasn’t going to strain his mentality to recapture it. He’d much rather capture this feeling of truly flying like a dart through the twilight sky.

When the ensemble finally reached their destination, Ronx realised the promised pie would have to wait. This fact sobered him a fraction and at Gray’s challenging tone, he sobered further. Ethan glanced sheepishly across to his fellow passenger and Ronx nodded, a flare of determination taking up arms in his expression.

“Alright!” he declared. “Leave this to me! I’m an adult, so I can take care of this like one should!”

“My hero~” swooned Ethan, though his expression was dry and doubtful.

Ronx stood up, forgetting he was still seated upon The Conqueror’s shoulder and crossed his arms boldly. His mantle whipped behind him like the wings of a bat and partnered with the expression of dauntlessness painted across his face, he might really have passed for a hero. Unfortunately…

“So, Ethan, where’s the back door to your fine establishment?”

A vein twitched dangerously on the child’s forehead. “Get down there and deal with them like a man before they destroy my parent’s hard earned business!!!” he roared and leaped to Gray’s other shoulder, proceeding to plant a well-targeted kick to Ronx’s rear.

The “hero” shrieked and fell face first into the muddy puddle just behind the rioters. The heads turned and Ronx immediately recognised the weasel pirate and dreadlocks among the crowd. “Why, fine evening, don’t you ladies and lords agree?” he asked meekly, offering a trembling smile.

“That’s the guy who was with Horace’s kid!” hollered a pirate from the back of the mob.

“Get him!!”

“Give me back my berries!!!”

“I want his second button!”

Ronx shrieked as the mob surged on top of him, a hail of punches and stomps falling over his body. Sneaky fingers tried to pluck at anything valuable in his possession--which is to say, nothing came of their fervent searches. The only item of value in his possession was the mantle and the clothes on his back, but the buckle of the mantle was fastened so tightly and so intricately, it was impossible to undo.

From the rooftop, Ethan watched with trepidation. “Perhaps that wasn’t the best strategy for him...”

Suddenly the crowd froze and they backed away from the muddy puddle Ronx had been occupying, only to find their target had somehow disappeared without a trace. As they consulted each other with bemusement, a shadow of a caped figure cast by the now risen moon fell over the crowd and their heads turned up, where Ronx was now standing valiantly upon a creaky lamp post. Or at least it would have been valiant if his face wasn’t completely swollen, distorting all his attractively princely facial features, his hair wasn't slick with muck, his clothes weren’t disheveled with missing buttons and the lamp post wasn’t so close to collapsing.

“How’s that?” he declared courageously. “That’s right, you lot will never catch me, the great Fl--!”

A pirate strode forward and slammed her foot against the base of the lamp post, her form almost as good as the girl who had appeared in Gray’s earlier tale in The Singing Skeleton. Ronx shrieked and fell painfully to the concrete floor. He groaned as he rubbed the back of his head and froze when he saw that the crowd was slowly advancing on him again, their yellow and black grins reflecting on every face. Ronx gulped.

“You idiot!” screamed Ethan with frustration, taking a giant leap and landing unsteadily before the crowd and facing Ronx. “You’re the worst man I’ve ever met!!!”

The mob paused to take in the entrance of their newest victim. “It’s the kid!” An anonymous cry sounded from the middle of the crowd and they surged forward again with renewed hatred. Ronx immediately snapped to attention, his expression hardening and he grabbed the kid by his arm, swinging his small body behind him with ease.

Ethan yelped and he found himself curtained by Ronx’s mantle, the revolutionary’s body standing as solid as a wall protectively between the boy and the mob. Ethan’s hand pressed against the older man’s tailcoat, realising for the first time that underneath the facade of the “princely hero” was trained muscle and unmoving strength.

Amber eyes narrowed with vigorous energy, Ronx pulled out a set of darts from seemingly nowhere and tossed them into the sky, above their assailants' heads. Their progression stopped as they reflexively tried to track the invisible projectiles. The darts came to their apex and paused only briefly before they suddenly dispersed into a tempestuous storm of raining needles.

The multitude of darts struck the pirates down, one by one before they had enough time to escape and by the end of that single attack, Ronx stood tall before his fallen enemies. The raven mask on his forehead suddenly fell over his face, masking his expression.

“I would have happily complied if you’d taken your anger on me alone, but I can’t let a child take such injury, even if discipline is in order,” he announced grimly, the intimidating power of the mask formerly belonging to a CP0 agent lending itself as a heavy hammer to close the scene.

STATS TRACKER:

0 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:

DAMAGE TRACKER:

TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:

NPC TRACKER 0:

cait at btn

Sat Aug 24, 2019 1:04 pm

Earlier...

Though Gray was accustomed to kooky personalities, the blond man was in a new league of strange. Not that he minded at all - far from it. No attempts were made to bury his amusement. When the antique enthusiast's gentle fingers skimmed the metal frame of his mechanical arms, the cyborg whirred its gears to embellish the presentation.

"If I'm ever desperate enough to sell my arm, you two will be the first to know. I'll then take bids - but I'll only accept those antique coins of yours as payment." He signed the plan with a mischievous chuckle.

The names dropped by the youth—Eva, Yedi, Price—did nothing but puzzle Gray. He scratched the back of his head, smiling kindly even in his befuddlement.

Later, when Ronx scampered up onto his shoulder, Gray let slip a smug grin. The grin only widened upon Ethan's vote of confidence in his ability to carry a small load of half a ton. With not even so much as a twitch of a brow, the heap of (debatable) treasure rose a few inches up. It then jetted up to the roof behind them with a will of its own.

A little less earlier...

The giant cyborg obscured behind the near blinding street lamp watched the scene developing on the street with a vested interest.

He commentated the skilful escape of the responsible adult with an "Ohhhh! He's a quick one, isn't he?" He could see the stars in Ethan's eyes, who seemed to be even more impressed than he. "He's soooooo coooo-" A heavy sigh from Gray—a sigh foretelling a not-so-cool moment—interrupted him.

When the poor lad fell about as gracefully as a shit-faced drunk, Ethan cringed and jumped to his defence. The foolhardy boy might've hurt his legs had Gray not cushioned his fall with his mysterious ability.

Presently...

The former yonkou retreated a few paces to be out of the peripheral vision of the mob below. The pack of goodies did not follow, for it was no longer his responsibility. He strolled around the block along the rooftops, changing seats to view the display of adulthood and responsibility head-on. The auras he sensed in the mob of disputants were dim, save for a handful who were close to matching the princeling's spirit and tenacity.

The presence of an aura as strong as Ronx's drew the silent observer's attention. He remembered sensing it earlier in the evening. The golden accents on his purple frock coat gave him away in the dark. The moustachioed peddler who called himself "Baron le Tourbillon" had followed them for a while now, though Gray had assumed it to be a coincidence.

Gray sat too far away to notice the sordid glint in the eyes of the shady merchant looming over Ronx's possessions. But, he did not fail to spot the blatant grab and dash. With Ronx focused on defending his younger friend, Gray was compelled to bring the theft of his belongings to his attention.

Before Baron le Tourbillon could skip to the next rooftop, an invisible hurdle tripped him off the edge. Gray could not have imagined the dandy swindler to be lighter than he looked - but he was. The man might have fallen to the flagstone path as slow as a feather had he not been anchor-dropped by his cumbersome carry-on.

A racket akin to a musical symphony orchestrated by monkeys filled the block when the contents of the stolen bag poured out in plain view of the angry mass. The horde swarmed to the scattered antiques like bees to honey. No looter bothered to observe the value of what they tried to plunder. The original robber of the treasure stuck out a cheeky tongue and winked at the masked owner of the stolen property. He tipped his feathered tricorne hat awkwardly before an elegant spin foreshadowed his imminent attempt at an escape.

Gray made no attempts at appeasing the anarchy he had inadvertently doctored. Seated comfortably with his legs crossed, he waited to see how his new examinees would resolve this predicament.

Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: Idea for a devil fruit for Baron le Tourbillon: Feather-Feather Fruit.

TRACKERS:

Wed Aug 28, 2019 4:25 am

Don't cause a scene~!

“Ronx, I’m so sorry…” mumbled Ethan as he clung to Ronx mantle.

“It’s okay,” replied the older man and Ethan glanced up to find the princely persona was still in place, or perhaps it was just the powerful guise of the mask veiling the mess underneath. “I’m just glad you aren’t hurt.”

“Gray caught me before I hit the ground,” boasted Ethan with overflowing pride. His idolisation of the cyborg was clear in the sparkle of his eyes.

Ronx opened his mouth to reply, but before he could utter a word, a cacophony wretched his attention away and he glanced up to see a thin, ridiculously-dressed (like Ronx had any reason to judge) man sprawled across the pavement with an assortment of junk scattered around his body.

Oh, what a pretty crown~ thought Ronx with admiration. And that unpolished stone sure does look familiar…

He started, but by the time he fully realised the spilled goods were his treasures, the scavengers were already rampant. The mob of greedy pirates surged forward, their sticky fingers snatching up whatever they could reach, their original mission with Ronx completely forgotten by the prospect of easy money.

“No! Stop!” cried revolutionary desperately, dashing forward with his hands outstretched in front of him to rescue his valuables.

In the process, the mask flew off and fell into Ethan’s expectant hands. Without the mask, however, the sight of Ronx’s former glory was completely diminished and he returned to his original form of a bumbling fool. He dived straight into the centre of the chaos, scrabbling and clawing alongside his adversaries. Every now and then, a yelp and a cry would sound from the flurry of covetous limbs.

Then, as abruptly as the fight had begun, it fell apart and the thieves dispersed in different directions, desperate to make away with what little gain they obtained before they were at risk of forfeiting it. This left Ronx fallen dumbfoundedly on his rump and staring slack-jawed as his muggers fled.

He watched as the pirates all scrambled away, the treasures he valued arguably as much as his life clutched between their avaricious arms. His eyes swung in every direction, the sinking sensation of defeat and loss feeling like a boulder in his stomach. The longer he sat in bewildered silence, the stronger the sense of growing desperation and sinister dismay welled up inside his chest.

“Stop…” he muttered, his complexion quickly darkening. His mood quickly plummeted, his shoulders hunkered and he threw his head back, his voice thundering. “I said, stop!!!”

His voice caused the air to quake and his aura spiked, sending a powerful shock-wave reverberating from his body. All at once, the bandits froze before dropping one-by-one to the ground. A few eyes rolled to white, mouths foaming like cauldrons, but others with stronger wills only released a pained groan as they fell to their knees.

Ethan, however, was of the former and made a strangled, choking sound before toppling over. Ronx gasped and lunged for the boy before he could hit the ground.

“Ethan!” he cried out in trepidation as cold sweat fell from his brows.

He glanced around him, unable to fully comprehend the sudden subjugation of the group of pirates that had completely overwhelmed him not moments ago. His amber eyes traced the dreadful scene until they reached the gaudily-dressed gentleman and his eyes narrowed. His target appeared completely unaffected by the mystery that ailed the fallen pirates, if not unsteady on his feet from his dramatic tumble.

“Pardon me, monsieur,” the man tittered and rose to his full height, quickly straightening his extravagantly burnished coat and pretentiously caressed the lightning bolt shape of his mustache. “It appears you’ve caught me at an embarrassing moment. Yes, très embarrassing! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Baron le Tourbillon, perhaps you have heard of me? Non? Oh dear, clearly not a local then…”

“You were trying to steal my antiques!” interrupted Ronx, his voice shaking as it took a tone of childish haughtiness. He accentuated his words with an irritated huff. “That makes you a thief!”

“Thief!” exclaimed the baron in horror. “Oh dear, mon amie, you misunderstand! I simply stumbled across these wares by chance! Therefore, I believe all these scattered trésors belong to me!”

Ronx froze, an expression of dismay breaching the childishness, before contorting into a visage of uncharacteristically scorching rage. “I’ve spent all the free time I could get away from Becky to collect everything! They’re mine!”

“Calm down, I never said I wouldn’t be part with the goods for a decent price~” gloated the baron, holding up a circle created by his thumb and index finger. “But fear not! For you, I might even offer a discount!”

“I said, it’s all mine,” retorted Ronx with an air of absurd confidence. He stood up, lifting Ethan in his arms.

The baron paused, before a smile spread across his cheeks. “I see. It appears we can’t agree on this dispute peacefully.”

“It appears so,” replied Ronx, pouting.

He glanced around, before spotting a recluse spot beside the tavern door. He gently lowered the boy down and tightened the grip of the mask Ethan still clutched to his chest even in his unconscious state. Perhaps it would give the boy solace when he woke. Having confirmed Ethan would not be harmed in the inevitable conflict, Ronx straightened again and turned back to the baron.

Sweeping his mantle back, Ronx aptly picked up three darts from the threads of the sleek material before bolting forward. He closed the space between himself and the baron in a matter of seconds, but when he raised his hand to attack, the baron only smirked knowingly.

Ronx thrust his fist forward, the darts protruding from his gloved knuckles like claws and struck the man. However...his fist only pummeled into thin air, the baron’s smug face swinging to the side like a pendulum.

“Oh my, you’re too slow, mon amie!” cackled the baron, clearly goading the revolutionary. “It appears that I’m faster!”

He suddenly swung his body low and hooked his fist into Ronx’s stomach. Reeling back, the blonde revolutionary stumbled backwards. Clenching his teeth with decisive vigor, he charged forward again, kicking his heels into the ground in an attempt to move as fast as he could. However, instead of colliding head-on with the baron as he had intended, he surged past like a raging tornado, missing his mark yet again.

Flailing, Ronx dug his heels into the ground to stop his momentum, but too late; he fell crashing into a pile of trash littered carelessly on the edge of the street. There was something strange about the baron’s movement; it was almost as though he danced on the wind, spiraling and tumbling like a leaf.

“Hweehweehwee!” laughed the baron with unconstrained glee, accentuating his unfettered movements with a classic twirl. “You need to be faster than that!”

OOC:

TRACKERS:

cait at btn

Mon Sep 02, 2019 3:28 pm

Many years ago, somewhere in the New World...

A deep, low grumbling disturbed the stillness of a misty morning. Haughty taunts from a young voice sailed through the haze. "Gahahaha! You're so weak! My farts hurt worse than you!" The boy did not disguise his condescension.

A second low rumble cleared the mist some. A creature as big as a barn whined and rolled in the grass. The feathers outlining the back of the beast's forelegs fluttered and fluffed up defensively. The monster weaker than a child's farts was what many called an owlbear. The name was no smart play on words, for it indeed bore the head of an owl and the body of a bear.

A screaming hoot erupted from the owlbear's golden-brown beak when the young bully pinched it again with his mysterious ability.

"Gray-chan! Stop that!" The reprimanding voice was sharp enough to cut through time, and yet so soothing it could lull even death to sleep. The scolder marched up to the ten-year-old with flared nostrils and kneeled. Her disapproving, hazel gaze did not fail to disarm its target. Gray pouted and swiped his burnt ginger hair, frustrated by the challenge upon his actions.

"That thing won't stop attacking me, Mire, even though I beat it so many times!"

The fog had lifted from the forest clearing where the mother had come to rescue a helpless beast from her adopted son's tormenting.

"And why do you think she keeps attacking you?" Mire asked, adjusting the tan newsboy cap resting on her soft, raven hair. Her frown had retreated, and her voice had mellowed. She brushed the spotted white fur of the owlbear's paw—which easily outsized her tall and athletic frame—as if she were petting a house cat.

"It obviously thinks it's stronger than me." The boy glowered at both the beast and his second mother. The owlbear's whiskery brows furrowed disrespectfully, taunting the boy again; but the boy dared not act against its smiling defender.

"Do you know what the most wonderful thing about being strong is, Gray-chan?" Ana D. Mire's trademark confident-yet-kind grin accompanied her unexpected question.

Before Gray could ponder the answer to the philosophical query, the grumpy owlbear shifted. It lifted its free paw, the circles in its eyes widening as they preyed on Mire. Just as it was about to swipe down its claws on the woman, something interrupted it. The creature broke out into a cold sweat with its paw suspended in the air. A single glare from the lady had convinced the owlbear to submit unconditionally. All Gray could do was look on with awe and confusion.

Mire stood up and walked towards the forest canopy, bidding the two in her company to follow. Gray chased after her like a lamb would a shepherd, his heart pounding from a scene he could not fully comprehend. And the owlbear ambled after Gray, its aggression displaced by obedience the boy did not think it capable of.

Pitiful squawks rippled through the woods, sounding like a mix of a bear cub's whines and a baby bird's squeaks. It did not take long for Gray to understand why his gargantuan opponent had refused to give up. He had yet to meet a mother who wouldn't risk her life to defend her spawn.

They entered a deep, grassy den where the cub cried in search for its mother. The baby owlbear darted to its mama clumsily, tripping at least twice before making it to her. Mire knew she did not need to explain the adult owlbear's actions to Gray for his face was spoiled by an apologetic frown.

The woman approached the cub confidently to scratch it behind its pointed ears. The cub grumbled happily - if that were even possible - rubbing its head against Mire's delicate palm.

Her eyes closed as she smiled wide, answering the question she'd posed earlier. "The most wonderful thing about being strong, Gray-chan, is that you can be kind to everyone even when they try to hurt you."

Today...

The owner of The Singing Skeleton hurled and rolled himself onto the roof like a hefty sack of potatoes. The folds of fat on his person moved like jelly as he lay on his back, huffing and puffing louder than a sea train.

"Looks like..." The fat man heaved, drawing a few desperate breaths. Gray looked over at Horace with some concern until his panting relented.

"Looks like Ethan's made an interesting new friend." Horace lifted his head, stretching as much as he could to glance at the gallant prince defending his charge.

Gray nodded. "It's a small world. I met that kid in Alabasta. Using a word as boring as "interesting" would be doing him an injustice." A single corner of his lips curled up. "He's a complete buffoon, but a likeable one."

The inflated innkeeper convulsed and contorted as he laughed. "Chahohoho! I recall you weren't so different yourself in your younger days."

Gray bit his tongue with a convictable simper as if he were caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

The racket and clanker of the exposed treasure had transformed into the desperate howling of a horde seeking to earn their dues (and maybe a bit more because surely the good citizens of an island full of criminals deserved it).

A wave of dread bathed the folk in the noisy street, the kind that made even Horace's hair stand on end; and Horace was no stranger to the patronage of terrors of the sea. "D-did that airhead just use…?"

A grin wider than the sky spread Gray's chapped lips, his irises expanded with renewed fascination. "You shouldn't underestimate your son's choices in friends, Horace. Even airheads can be emperors!"

Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: Cue title card!

Wed Sep 04, 2019 11:10 pm

Alice uses MT (Aethera Telis) on the Baron.
Alice uses LT (Debilito Dart: Summer) on the Baron.
Alice uses LT (Aestus Wind) on the Baron.
Alice uses UT on the Baron.

The Baron uses MT on Alice.
The Baron uses LT on Alice.
The Baron uses LT on Alice.
The Baron uses UT on Alice.

Wed Sep 04, 2019 11:10 pm

The member 'Baltroy' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 13, 13, 18, 7

--------------------------------

#2 'Reflex Check' : 19, 3, 1, 12

Sun Sep 08, 2019 6:00 am

Don't cause a scene~!

Ronx clambered unceremoniously from the pile of junk he had haplessly fallen headfirst into. All the while, he let out a string of childish mumbles, all of which was indecipherable from the sheer lack of meaning and direction of his insults.

He was in the middle of his jumbled complaints when the back of his peel caught on a banana peel and he let out a feeble yelp before tumbling directly back into his foul-smelling trap. Silence ensued for a moment as Ronx lay immobolised.

The Baron le Tourbillon rose on tip toes, trying to peer into the mess. “Oh dear, did he die already?” he speculated, his eyes glowing with titillation.

Suddenly a roar reaching its boiling point erupted from the junk and Ronx surged out with his fists punching and thrashing the remaining trash out of his way. His eyes were completely frosted over with white rage, his swollen face twisted into an expression of comical mania.

“You! You!” he spluttered, clambering to his feet and advancing on the Baron in slow, unsteady steps. His fists were clenched tightly to his side, the veins on his neck pulsing and palpitating with every heaving breath blown from his flared nostrils.

A chortle of pure hilarity erupted from the fanciful Baron. “Non! Non! Stop!” he gasped, holding up a hand, palm facing Ronx. “You’re killing me!”

His pride was challenged to a point it could be surpassed even by a pruned rose. As a result, Ronx’s face was quickly morphing into an unpleasant shade of purple and with his mind like white static, he stomped purposefully forward while the Baron continued to succumb to his fit of laughter.

He didn’t seem to notice as Ronx stopped directly in front of him and he pulled his fist back, drilling it doggedly into the Baron’s wheezing face. He half expected the Baron to swing out of the way like a pendulum again, but to his astonishment, his fist connected and the Baron crumbled to the ground like a limp rag-doll. [Ronx UT]

Another bout of stunned silence ensued, before Ronx snapped out of his reverie and pulled his fist back again. He launched his punch as quickly as he could before the caricature of a noble could recover, but the Baron (who was still reeling from the earlier punch) suddenly flew up as though a rush of wind had swelled from underneath him, and Ronx’s fist pummeled into dust.

The Baron let out a surprised shriek as he shot up into the air, flailing his limbs until his momentum slackened and he slowly drifted back to the ground. He hovered briefly over the ground, before landing lightly on his feet.

Thoroughly confounded, Ronx could only stare, loose-jawed and wide-eyed. All the while, the Baron returned his perplexity with a sheepish grin, as though he had been caught red-handed in an elaborate scam. Which was exactly what it was.

“Ah...have you figured it out?” asked the guilty culprit, nervously fondling his mustache.

Ronx’s brow furrowed as though he was turning a complex idea in his head, before the shadow lifted under the light of a bulb. “You’re a devil fruit user!” he exclaimed.

“Oui, monsieur!” cried the Baron, clapping his hands in a show of remarkable recovery. “Je suis as light as a plume of feathers! A feather-feather man, if you must~”

“But you kept telling me to be faster!” argued Ronx, his brow darkening again.

The Baron le Tourbillon laughed in his chittery manner again. “Oui, ‘tis the art of la diversion!”

Still irked, Ronx screwed up his purple face into an expression that might have passed for crimson rage if it weren't so unlike his nature. He then dashed forward with the astounding and blinding speed he was renowned for. However, he stopped short just as he reappeared behind the Baron and paused only momentarily; more than enough time to whip back his mantle and release a stream of darts towards the Baron’s exposed back. [Aestus Wind - Ronx LT]

As the wind of darts rushed through the Baron, Ronx reached for the back of his neck, but his hand was swiped away. The Baron bounced away, light on his feet as ever, and he now held a black ebony cane he had pulled seemingly from nowhere. He hovered over the ground for a moment, mid-step, before shooting forward like a bullet, the tip of his cane extended and colliding into the blonde. [Baron UT]

Ronx stumbled back as the attack landed squarely in his stomach, a rack of coughs caught like a stone in his throat. Without missing a beat, the Baron swung the cane high like he was wielding a baseball bat and brought it down heavily on the revolutionary’s head. [Prend ça! - Baron MT]

The cane was heavier than it appeared and Ronx’s felt a trickle of blood drip down his temple. A wave of dizziness battered him and he felt his body tip unsteadily, but when the Baron rushed him again, he managed a clumsy sidestep.

Taking advantage of his opponent’s pause, he reached for the Baron’s neck again, clicking his fingers to push up one of the invisible darts embedded in the threads of his gloves. He then carefully plucked the caricature up by the neck, the limb-numbing dart pricking his target at the same time. [Debilito Dart: Summer - Ronx LT]

The Baron le Tourbillon tottered on his feet as Ronx abruptly dropped him and the fast-acting agent coursed through his body.

“What did you just do?” he stammered, lifting up a heavy hand.

“Just something to make you slower,” huffing Ronx obnoxiously with an air of self-importance.

The Baron turned to face the young revolutionary, his eyes narrowed in a glazed glare. Grinning impishly, Ronx lifted his hand and made a slight motion, as though to throw something in the air. A parcel left his hand, so swift it was barely a black blur and by the time the Baron could track its movement to the air, a tempest of darts bombarded down upon him. [Aethera Telis - Ronx MT]

cait at btn

TRACKERS:

PLAYER STATS:

PLAYER RATIOS:

USED 4 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

1 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

3 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

CREW NPC STATS:

CREW NPC RATIOS:

CREW NPC TECHNIQUES USED:

BOSS STATS:

BOSS RATIOS:

BOSS TECHNIQUES USED:

Sun Sep 08, 2019 8:26 pm

The rotund owner of The Singing Skeleton had somehow managed to sit up (perhaps with just a bit of invisible assistance from his pirate friend). "Get yourself together, Horace. You're not old enough yet to have so much trouble moving around." Concern for the barkeep collapsed Gray's brows inwards.

"Chahoho! You can blame Olivia for letting me eat so much of the leftovers every night," Horace retorted. Gray countered with a sigh. "Don't frame your wife for your lack of self-control, fat man."

Horace freed a hoarse gurgle, "You're one to talk about self-control, you hypocrite! You've been spending all your days drinking for the past week. Chahohoho!"

The bear of a man snickered like a toddler and swept his long, brown hair behind his ears with his flesh hand. "I need my fuel if I have to to attract customers to your place with stories." Horace nodded, admitting to the unique advantages of having a retired adventurer as well-travelled as Gray around.

The cyborg keenly observed the conflict between the moustached thief and the regal blonde fool. He blew an impressed whistle when the mantled champion zoomed at breakneck speeds. Though, it appeared that combating his current opponent with overwhelming velocity was the wrong approach. When the haoshoku user landed his first strike on Baron le Tourbillon, the two spectators applauded and cheered. "That's more like it!"

Onlookers—if there were any left conscious—might've found this to be an awkward scene. Two middle-aged men hooting and clapping like school kids while a wealthy-looking young fellow (swollen like a potato) beat the snot out of a twirly twig.

"Ethan-kun's a tough sprout - he's already up. He's looking for something." Gray sensed the boy's scramble indoors and tracked his aura as he rushed back out. He climbed up the ladder Horace had used to ascend to the roof.

"Gray! Papa! Ronx was so cool! I was standing next to him one second, and then I woke up away from the fight the next! Also, look, I found it!" The lad was wearing the Cipher Pol raven mask, though the accessory seemed one size too big for his small, round face. He aligned the eyeholes of the mask to his peepers before delivering a crusty page to the cyborg.

"Look, look! Ronx is famous! And I think he's a girl!" The child's voice cracked and squeaked, forcing his cheeks to flush with embarrassment. Horace leaned over slothfully to inspect the wanted poster with Gray.

"Ohhhh~! Almost two-hundred million berries! That airhead really is kinda special," confessed the tavern owner.

The former yonkou dimpled and grinned at the photogenic shot of the gentle jester, almost tempted to agree with Ethan's remark about him being a girl. Gray stroked his scruffy beard, scanning through the list of offences the bountied criminal was wanted for.

"Alice B. Ronx... 'The Flying Dart', huh? I couldn't say if he is really a she, but, I'm confident that our new friend is a revolutionary soldier." His unexpected declaration was met with puzzled blinks.

Gray exhaled and held up the poster, underlining the word "Rebellion" with a metal fingertip. "I've usually only seen this on the wanted posters of revolutionaries. And the names he brought up earlier... I didn't realise it at the time, but he mentioned 'Yedi' and 'Price'. I assume Yedi is Yedidiyah, the Revolution's Lion, and Price is the Smiling Pauper."

Ethan was as perplexed as before (if not more so), but Horace accepted Gray's theory with a nod. "Those are bigshots in the NRA! You think that kid knows them personally?"

Gray shrugged and wetted his dry lips. "For as long as I've known Djinn, young men and women with great potential have flocked to his cause."

"Oh? I didn't know you were acquainted with the Commander-in-Chief of the New Revolutionary Army." Horace seemed genuinely surprised.

"Gehahahaha! Who the hell do you think I am?" With a boastful smirk, Gray hopped up onto his feet, his non-robotic hand patting Ethan's uncombed head.

His eyes narrowed as they tracked the pair of belligerents hacking away at each other. He mumbled a "be back soon" to his two companions. The air appeared to bend and warp around them for the briefest of seconds before the giant man disappeared quicker than the blink of an eye.

The caped cyborg materialised in Ronx's path when he'd landed a successful strike on the shady "baron". Gray was squatting just enough to be face-to-face with the spirited revolutionary. He beamed ear-to-ear, baring his teeth like a braying (but gentle) donkey. With his eyes shut happily, he raised his mechanical hand, fingers spread wide. "Alice-chaaaan~! Let's get to know each other~"

Like a father doting on his newly-born child, he attached himself to Alice, retreating for the briefest of moments when he sensed an attack coming from either of the two scrappers.

"How old are you? Where were you born? What's your favourite food? Did y--" He boomed away to evade a swipe and returned promptly to continue. "--ou eat a devil fruit? What're your friends like?"

Like a fan obsessing over his idol, he followed Alice closely behind each one of his attacks. He would not interfere or interrupt with the baron in the slightest when he would attack. He would only observe and interview the faux prince through his crucible.

Tags: @Baltroy

Sun Sep 08, 2019 11:59 pm

Alice uses HT Gladio Talon on Baron.
Alice uses LT Preying Aquilam on Baron.
Alice uses UT on Baron.

Baron uses MT on Alice.
Baron uses LT on Alice.
Baron uses LT on Alice.
Baron uses UT on Alice.

Sun Sep 08, 2019 11:59 pm

The member 'Baltroy' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 15, 15, 7

--------------------------------

#2 'Reflex Check' : 6, 14, 4, 15

Tue Oct 01, 2019 2:06 am

Don't cause a scene~!

As the Baron sank to his knees, the toxin coursing through his limbs, Ronx tugged his gloves with a short exhale of relief. He had yet to consider his next action, when the face of a beaming giant loomed over him. While much could leave the young revolutionary in a panic, the same could not be said to utterly baffle him.

“Um...Gray...now isn’t...watch out!”

However, even as the Baron swung his cane at the overconfident giant, he evaded with ease defying his herculean size. Ronx gaped before breaking out into an admiring beam.

“Wow! You’re so fast!” he exclaimed, dancing out of the way as the Baron jabbed his cane at his torso. “I’m twenty-two…” he began, completely devoid of any suspicion or distrust that should have rightfully accompanied his words. “I was born in Water 7 and I love candy and sweets!” He glanced at the former yonkou hopefully. “You wouldn’t happen to have any on you now, do you?”

The immediate battle completely slipped from his mind as he devoted his attention to the Conqueror, completely disregarding the Baron until he swung his cane high. [Baron LT: Merde!] The cane came crashing heavily down on the blonde’s head. His eyes bulging, Ronx let out a wretched wail and fell to the ground, clutching his head as he rolled across the muck in a spasm of pain.

“Ouch! What was that for?” he demanded, whimpering.

“I would appreciate it if you would stop ignoring moi, merci beaucoup!” huffed the red-faced baron. “This skit can surely wait until after I send the two of you two hell, non?”

“Wait, wait!” gasped Ronx as the Baron rushed forward again. “I haven’t finished answering all Gray’s questions yet!”

He scrambled out of the way as the cane batted for his head again. Rising to his feet, Ronx swept his mantle back and his nimble fingers traced the multitude of hidden darts before pummeling an open palm into his opponent’s stomach. [Ronx LT: Preying Aquilam]

“And stop aiming for my head! Cherry says I should avoid any further brain trauma, whatever that means…” said Ronx and quickly scampered away, turning to find Gray was shadowing his every move.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve never--ah!!” He fell to the ground as the Baron tripped him with his cane [Baron UT], but he managed to roll out of the way before the tip of his cane could come crashing down on him. “Excuse me for a moment, Gray.”

Flipping back onto his feet, Ronx swung a leg up and caught the Baron under the chin with his heel. The cutting threads of darts embedded in his trousers sliced a straight path up the Baron’s chest, freshly exposing a blooming red laceration. [Ronx MT: Gladio Talon]

“Now, where was I?” mused Ronx, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “That’s right!” He turned his head to find the titan still covetously following his every move. “I’ve never eaten a devil fruit and I don’t think I ever will. I’ve heard they taste awful! And something about sea devils dragging you to the bottom of the sea and eating your soul...I can't swim as it is, so I’d never get away!

“One of my friends has devil fruit powers. She must have been very brave to eat it!” he grinned widely as his eyes glossed over in a moment of wistful thought. “All my friends are awfully brave, actually! They are incredibly important to me.”

He paused and glanced over at the Baron who was tottering from the succession of blows the revolutionary had left him. The blonde revolutionary straightened his back proudly.

“You don’t seem so scary now that I’ve figured out your powers!” he boasted and turned to grin unflinchingly at the Conqueror. "Hey, Gray! If we're going to get to know each other, let's be friends too! Tell me more about yourself~"

cait at btn

TRACKERS:

PLAYER STATS:

PLAYER RATIOS:

USED 3 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

1 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

3 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

CREW NPC STATS:

CREW NPC RATIOS:

CREW NPC TECHNIQUES USED:

BOSS STATS:

BOSS RATIOS:

BOSS TECHNIQUES USED:

Tue Oct 01, 2019 8:37 pm

Many years ago...

The knock of a sōzu broke the rhymes of the winds shifting through the bamboo grove. The hollowed bamboo rocker tipped forward when its mother fountain had quenched its thirst, vomiting out much of its contents.

Two voices disturbed the harmony of the glade - one loud and one mellow. "Gehehe... Your protégé sounds like a real handful. We've got more than a few troublemakers on Sangria's Vane too, but, they sure do make life exciting sometimes." The brown-haired male chuckled, pouring saké out of a wooden flask larger than a sea king's head and into a saucer near as wide as a giant's palm.

Gray was no stranger to drinking out of unwieldy utensils, for they were more accessible to him (and more satisfying for his thirst) than ones meant for regular-sized humans. The other male sat with his legs crossed across from Gray and swigged from a saucer about half the size.

The shorter man's magenta hair locks curtained a subtle smirk. "You're no less of a troublemaker yourself, Gray."

Gray flung his head back with an amused roar, nearly watering the grass with spilt liquor. His bare, tanned abs twitched and throbbed as if someone were drumming them. "And this is coming from the doughty leader of the New Revolutionary Army? I would bet my left arm you've caused the World Government far more trouble than I have, Djinn."

The commander-in-chief of the NRA placed his saké cup on the ground, folding his arms. "Says the man who found One Piece."

A gust whistled through the clearing.

Gray's smile shallowed, and he set aside his drink. He thumbed the sparse orange hairs along his jawline and remarked, "Are you sure you don't want me to tell you how to get to Laugh Tale? You know why it's important for a D. to go, don't you?"

Djinn affirmed with a nod, shifting his conical straw hat to shade his eyes from a god ray peeking through the bamboo thicket. "We're at the dawn of a Revived Era. You and I are relics of a bygone age." The revolutionary stole a sip from his cup, but his ominous pause ended before Gray could speak. "Our duty is to clear the way for the next generation. One Piece? Ancient Weapons? They're all beyond our years. You said it yourself, didn't you? This world's future is in the hands of the youth who're bold enough to take it by its reins. I'm sure you'll find someone to inherit your will one day - to finish what Marsh and Mire started."

Gray tucked a palm behind his head with a defeated glib. He was no stranger to the pink-haired man waxing philosophical. "Who knows? Maybe I'll steal one of your promising brats one day to set them on that path."

The men's laughs vaporised with the warm breeze into times afar.

The day he had found one more promising brat...

When inquired on whether he carried candies, his face scrunched as if to say "of course". Suspicious as it was for an old man to be travelling around with pockets full of candy, the impropriety never stopped Gray. He fished a caramel toffee from the abyssal depths of his black cloak, dangling it teasingly in front of Alice like a pendulum.

"Tell you what. You can have as many of these as you want if you win this fight," promised Gray with a whimsical wink.

The old half-robot bellowed like a pyromaniac orangutan on fire when threatened by the bloodied baron. "GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" His cackle was echoed from the Singing Skeleton's rooftop by the portly tavern-keeper. The absurdity of the knave's comment was likely lost upon the rest of them.

When Alice expressed his apprehensions regarding devil fruits, he grinned arrogantly and bragged, "I ate a devil fruit, and yet I still go under the sea all the time!" He flourished his hair sassily, though the hopeless hobo could never match the princely revolutionary's natural glamour.

Upon hearing the attestation of the bravery of his friends, Gray applauded Alice's choice in companions. For a moment too brief to note, sorrowful wrinkles betrayed distressing memories of lost friends.

The ginger giant smiled ear-to-ear when offered friendship by the blond star. The extent to which he ignored the losing combatant while continuing to evade each one of his strikes infuriated the loser even more.

"My name is Gray Starks! I was born in the New World, and have been sailing all over the world for almost forty years. Your good leader, Djinn, is an old drinking pal of mine. I like booze, banquets, and bizarre adventures - though maybe not in that order. And I also like honest fools like you," he declared, beaming brighter than the revolutionary's golden buttons.

"Say, you like antiques, don't you?" His brilliant smile contorted into a seedier one - though his tongue kept its enthusiasm and sincerity. "Have you heard of One Piece?! It's the greatest treasure in the world! Some say you'll find some of the most ancient treasures on your way to One Piece. And they say when you get there, you'll find the oldest treasure of them all!" His words may have had a veiled purpose, but it did not detract from his claims' authenticity.

Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: I noticed a couple of things in your combat trackers. Firstly, your duration left for Debilito Dart should be 0 turns (last turn, it should've said "1 turn left"). And secondly, your cooldown for debilito dart would start from next turn on. Meaning, the cooldown does not start until after the duration ends. Everything else looked great though. Thank you for your effort and diligence! I'm sorry for replying so quickly. No need to rush to post back.

Thu Oct 03, 2019 3:11 am

Alice uses MT [DoT: Cereus Larua] on Baron.
Alice uses LT [Gravis Tonitrum] on Baron.
Alice uses LT [Invisus Glans] on Baron.
Alice uses UT on Baron.

Baron uses HT on Alice.
Baron uses LT on Alice.
Baron uses UT on Alice.

Thu Oct 03, 2019 3:11 am

The member 'Baltroy' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 1, 15, 16, 3

--------------------------------

#2 'Reflex Check' : 13, 3, 20

Mon Oct 07, 2019 7:29 am

Don't cause a scene~!

As Gray’s voice boomed, the Baron’s expression appeared to tense with shock, while Ronx’s naive smile appeared to widen further. His jaw dropped at the mention of his revolutionary leader and his eyes shone with awe-striking wonder.

“I love antiques!” blurted Ronx, the brilliance of his disposition outshining even the most cloudless of days. “Even more than candy!”

As Gray spoke into further detail of the legendary treasure, Ronx’s visage seemed to only grow exponentially in luminescence.

“If I look for this 'One Piece', I’ll find the greatest treasure of the world,” repeated Ronx, almost dumbfounded in his wonderment. “And I’ll even find amazing treasures and artifacts on the journey?!”

Suddenly, Ronx’s body tipped backwards and he fell to the ground with his arms outstretched like a starfish. He was paralysed for a moment, his eyes glassy with fantasy and his mouth wide.

Then, after a moment of the starry skies reflecting in his vivid, amber eyes, he burst into a spasmodic fit of laughter. He flipped back onto his feet and thrust his face as close as he could physically get himself to Gray’s.

“Where should I start to find the One Piece?” he asked feverishly. “I want to set sail as soon as possible!”

“Hold on!” snapped the Baron, staring apprehensively at the rowdy duo. “You’re Gray Starks the Conqueror?!”

“Ah! I forgot about you!” exclaimed Ronx, turning fiercely on the stupefied man. “You stole my artifacts! I’ll have you return them before I look for the One Piece!”

He raised his hand, flinging a stream of darts from his mantle in the same movement. When he swept both his hands up and clapped them over his head, he seemed to materialise an axe structured entirely of darts in a matter of breathes. [Gravis Tonitrum]

Bringing the axe down with all his might, the darts immediately dispersed into a rain of needles upon dealing their intended damage. The Baron reeled backwards, but Ronx snatched his collar, careful to be mindful of his devil fruit ability, and slammed his palm piercingly into his chest. [Invisus Glans]

“How was that?” asked Ronx proudly puffing out his chest as the Baron coughed up an orb of blood. “I’m absolutely going to win this fight and get some candy from Gray!”

The Baron’s stooped, stiff body teetered from side to side in a moment of uncertainty (“Will he fall?!”) before coming to an abrupt still. Suddenly, he stabbed his cane into the ground, gouging out a small crater, and his back slowly straightened, turning a cold gaze to the doltish revolutionary.

Freezing, Ronx appeared to lean back as his hair stood on end. “Eep!”

The Baron launched himself forward, using his cane to spur his sudden burst of speed and leaving behind a hue of his afterimage. He swung his cane and caught the blonde revolutionary across his chest, who tumbled backwards in a rack of heaving coughs. [HT]

Still doubled over in pain, Ronx flung his body recklessly at the Baron, who grinned like a weasel as his body carried by Ronx’s momentum spun out of harm’s way. Falling face first into the ground, Ronx groaned before collapsing with a scream of pain as the Baron slammed his cane into the revolutionary’s back. [LT]

Grinning maniacally, the Baron thrust his cane back down, knocking Ronx’s forehead into the hard floor before stepping away. [UT] Feebly, Ronx pulled himself to his feet but his eyelids fluttered wearily.

“Aww, that hurts a lot,” he whimpered miserably. “Gray, you promise I get as much candy as I want if I win? Promise, promise?”

It was a weak attempt, but any encouragement (and candy was always an enticing form of encouragement) would immediately act as a catalyst to the mournful, childlike commander’s motivation. He glanced tearfully at the former Yonkou, pleading him, as drool dripped down his chin.

cait at btn

TRACKERS:

PLAYER STATS:

PLAYER RATIOS:

USED 4 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

0 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

4 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

CREW NPC STATS:

CREW NPC RATIOS:

CREW NPC TECHNIQUES USED:

BOSS STATS:

BOSS RATIOS:

BOSS TECHNIQUES USED:

Mon Nov 25, 2019 8:00 pm

Gray did not flinch an inch when the golden-haired hero thrust his face nearly into his. He probed the revolutionary's ardent amber eyes. Using his trained-to-perfection kenbunshoku haki, he dove into the plethora of complex emotions hiding behind the mask of tomfoolery.

Each emotion danced in his thoughts in a different colour. Indifference was grey, and curiosity was yellow; passion was orange, and rage was red. There was some untouchable blackness buried deep in the lad's heart. Yet, much of his psyche was, in fact, an honest reflection of his behaviour. This expedition into Alice's mind convinced Gray of the veracity of his innocence and mirth - they even seemed more sincere than the pirate's own.

When Alice inquired after One Piece, his choice of words fascinated Gray. "Where can I find One Piece?" The instincts of most treasure-seekers would've driven them to ask this.

Even when words don't have thoughts put behind them, they speak volumes of one's character; and this young adventurer's words made the ageing bear quiver with excitement.

"Where should I start to find the One Piece?"

Gray grinned back at Alice as if he had dug out a gem from a pile of shit (for he most certainly had). With his face motionless in front of his new favourite revolutionary's, he declared, "I'll tell you if you win this fight. But, before I do, how about you introduce your friends to me?" Gray knew better than most how the journey to the "greatest treasure in the world" could never be completed by one man alone. He was curious to meet the bevvy of troublemakers following this likeable airhead.

When the nosy baron identified him by name, Gray chirped like a cat caught with its muzzle in a bowl of milk. His cheeks purpled, and he stuck a guileless tongue out. "Ehhhh? You must have me confused with someone else~ Isn't The Conqueror dead~?" He sang, ruffling the back of his head.

The knave did not buy a single milligram of his charade. Lucky for Gray, the baron had a pot on the stove already boiling over. When Alice stole his attention, Gray retreated a few paces to allow room for their fight to grow without making him a potential victim.

Watching the blondie fight felt much like watching a show at the circus. It was a clown's act one moment, and an acrobat's the next. It wasn't often Gray got to savour a comical scuffle.

Gray leapt back to the roof of the Singing Skeleton to check on the other two audience members. "The boy's got a trickster's weapons up his sleeves," noted the innkeep, rubbing his belly seated like a sleepy panda.

"Where does he even hide all those darts? Did he eat a devil fruit like you, Gray?!" Asked a nervous Ethan. He had chewed his dirty nails nearly to their roots.

Gray shook his head. "The silly kid's afraid he'll drown if he eats a devil fruit. But he can't even swim as it is... Gahahaha!" The chuckle was punctuated with a hopeless sigh. He'd known his fair share of legends who weren't ability users. And yet, those who made their marks on the world were almost always cursed by the devil. I hope I live long enough to see how this idiot's story ends.

With a violent boom, Gray approached the battle again - though still keeping a building's breadth between him and the brawl. When the baron finally succeeded in giving back what he was getting, Gray pouted and whined. He sat up in the air—legs folded—and floated a little closer.

Hearing the mewling of the woeful rebel, Gray puffed his cheeks, scratched his beard, and shrugged. "I can only promise to give you as much candy as I have, Alice-chan~ But, if you win, I promise to tell you all about a place called Totto Land, where you'll find more candy than you could ever eat in your entire life!" His promise was accented by a cheerful smirk showing off the plaque coating his teeth (for he was known to indulge in sweets now and again too).

"Now, why don't you show me what you can do with that strong haki of yours?" He requested, crossing his arms and waiting expectantly.

Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: Gray gave Alice a reason to search for One Piece, and now he's giving him a good reason to conquer the Totto Land turf too. So much long-term plot-building.

Tue Nov 26, 2019 1:59 am

Roll 1A --> Ronx uses HT [Debilito Dart: Winter] on Baron.
Roll 1B --> Ronx uses LT [Preying Aquilam] on Baron.
Roll 1C --> Ronx uses UT on Baron.

Roll 2A --> Baron uses MT on Ronx.
Roll 2B --> Baron uses LT on Ronx.
Roll 2C --> Baron uses LT on Ronx.
Roll 2D --> Baron uses UT on Ronx.

Edit: Accidentally used an entire set of moves that were on cooldown so I deleted the old roll. Sorryyyyy~

Tue Nov 26, 2019 1:59 am

The member 'Baltroy' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 4, 8, 17

--------------------------------

#2 'Reflex Check' : 15, 7, 2, 15

[Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

[Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

Re: [Abandoned] [Episode] Even airheads can be emperors!

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